Serpent
by Sephiroth Hates You
Summary: The leaves from the great tree fall into the pond. The colors form a mural. The mural is a tapestry of the Gods. Had Meblu Frahma gazed at falling leaves before? Had he noticed his placement within the tapestry? The Gods are not pleased...
1. Foolhardy Lieutenants

It has been said that time continuously repeats. Tragedy strikes over again just as joy graces the same people that it had before. Everything is predetermined and it is deemed as destiny. I believed that nothing could change no matter what anyone did. I had always felt that I was destined to die the same death in every other alternate plane of existence that held our troubled world.  
  
How wrong I was.  
  
My theory has changed due to the adventure, if it could actually be called that, that I had undertook. I believe now that when time repeats, a person or creature may be able to catch on to the plan of the gods. Maybe a certain dread tells them to remain home and stay away from the unknown danger that would have sought them out.  
  
Melbu Frahma, my leader, had caught onto his destiny, although I am not sure how. Was it my own destiny to die under his rule in the war against the weaker human race? Probably. But when he drew countermeasures against the enemy, the gods tried to intervene, however. The only problem was that they were enslaved by the power of the sphere.  
  
The gods did find a way. And their way was through me.  
  
I do not know what it was that caused me to leave my race for I was raised to never like humans, and honestly, I never quite did. Maybe the deities of this corrupt world instilled their will into me, and because I am still only a mere mortal, although long lived, it is most probable that I could not resist their designs for me.  
  
I can easily recall the events that led up to my present path . . .  
  
The large star in the sky feels immaculate on my pale flesh, and even though it stings my crimson eyes, I am glad to experience it. Kanzas barely remains above the gray clouds, and that signifies that the humans may encounter rain. The hail of water will hinder any defense that they may be currently working on. That brings a malicious smile to my lips.  
  
The only thing that is stopping me from armoring up and raiding the pathetic humans is the prospect of an anti-dragon weapon. Melbu Frahma, our great leader, has foreseen the coming of humans with enslaved dragons.  
  
How I hate those winged beasts!  
  
I am not sure how he obtained that vital knowledge, but I can truthfully say that I am not bothered by it. Much more besides, with these weapons, we can cut down any rebellion those humans conjure up!  
  
My shoes, which are made of thick leather and rimmed with simple metal, softly click on the crystalline platform that juts out from the citadel. In a sense, it is a tactical advantage for if the humans manage to find away to attack from the skies, the prism will magnify the light from the sun, and thus, it could temporarily blind them.  
  
We plan to cut the fools down before they can obtain such a power.  
  
I truly am growing impatient. What could be taking those magic researchers so long? Do not they know that this is the most opportune time to cut down some of the foes resources? I cannot wait any longer!  
  
My wings, like the rest of my kin, flare out as an ivory white. Using the force that my wings create, I make my hasty flight to my terrace home.  
  
As I nimbly dodge other winglies and avoid structures that hold the fortress in place, I applaud myself for skillful maneuvering. I have always been highly adept in aerial attacks. No one pays me much heed for this is a daily routine. Yes, the restless youth, known as myself, tends to roam about her homeland in such a manner.  
  
There is nothing special about my room. It is able to house a dome-shaped bed as well as my weapons and armor, and that is all I need. Unlike most of the other females, I am a warrior at heart.  
  
Without further ado, I strip of my comfortable garb, and I easily slide on a deceptive cotton shirt. Next comes my silvery armor, which blends in with my shoulder length hair. Lastly, I slide on my helm. The color is the same as the rest of my attire, and feathered wings protrude from the sides. Although my protective covering looks very cumbersome, I am still quite able to fly about and move with great ease and comfort.  
  
I stretch my limbs and pick up my sharp edged, poisoned javelin. It is time to depart.  
  
The excitement that threatened to make me cackle with pure sadistic delight made me unaware of a fellow lieutenant who had taken the liberty of entering my sanctuary.  
  
"Tsuda, you honestly are not thinking of going alone," the wingly fighter had accentuated the fact that he desires to come with me and not rat me out to the lieutenant commanders. Truly, this day is turning out well!  
  
He is clad in the same armoring as I save for the fact that his own is better fitted for a male. His white hair is tide back, and only several tendrils framed his angular face. It was most obvious that he is relishing the fun that was about come as well.  
  
Many of our elders called us foolhardy children, but we did hold a rather high rank in Frahma's grand army. No one doubted our fighting prowess or our military skills.  
  
Czeke Arlan, as is his name, soared besides me. We steadily made our flight lower.  
  
Lower.  
  
And Lower still.  
  
Beneath the smoky clouds, the rain was making the ground slick and the spirits of the guards dim. I knew that the score of soldiers were expecting an attack from the aerial devils for the downpour aided us in our assaults.  
  
The first shout that signifies our approach is like music to my ears. Did they know that their lives were coming to an end?  
  
Czeke and I split when we get close to the ground. He shoots down archers with his own devastating bow, and he remains high enough so that they cannot counter him. He is fighting well, I comment.  
  
But as for myself, I flutter right into their ugly faces, and grin when I skewer them with my lance. With the lovely Czeke guarding my back, I have little to fear from these humans.  
  
It seems as if they have learned how to survive better against us for reinforcements arrived suddenly. I guess they began to build their shabby forts closer together. This is not hindering our assault in the least bit.  
  
Arrow shafts rebound off my blood stained armor, and even though their aiming is good, their actual chance of managing to strike at the only opening of my armor, between my helm and chest plate, is too small to even consider probable.  
  
A shield was put in proper alignment to ward of my lunging weapon, and that alone put me in shock. Since when could these weaklings defend themselves?  
  
Not even my glare, which assured a slow and painful death, fazed the owner of that crude metal buckler. The woman's hardy features grimaced in frustration. She obviously wanted to defeat me so, but I will not allow myself to fall to an inferior human woman!  
  
I was trapped for a moment when a net sprung out from a concealed tower, and I would have blushed in utter embarrassment for falling for such a thing if my mind had not been fixated on that human wench.  
  
It was easy enough to shred the ropes to pieces and be free of the binding, but something happened that I could not believe.  
  
Her sword, looking rather dull, slipped past my blocking javelin and slid so smoothly across my vulnerable throat.  
  
She knew of the weakness!  
  
I knew that could not afford to continue this preposterous battle, and thus, I had to sacrifice my weapon to hinder that damned woman from capturing me.  
  
In desperation, I find the willpower to make my zigzagging escape from that humiliating escapade, but my neck is bleeding freely. I know that not even a wingly could survive this.  
  
My wings dissipate, and as I tumble to the muddy earth, I can see a dragon, black and imposing, launch an overwhelming blast at my companion. I do not know if his form fading from my eyes is his dead body being lunged backwards or if he survived and is currently retreating.  
  
But what does it matter?  
  
I am dying. 


	2. The Boy and His Tree

I believe that this is the end, and, in all truth, it is of my own doing.

The world is so blurry now, almost as if it was a memory fading from my mind due to decades of time and pressing matters. What image would come to view after my soul passes through Mayfil? Only the essence of Mayfil can decide what bliss will befall me.

I have heard that one's life passes through their eyes when they near their last breath, but I really do not see any past memories. I see the world as if there was a veil over my eyes.

The chilled wet earth feels akin to my body and my heart. The only warmth that I feel comes from the wound, my mortal wound. Even if I had the strength to try to stem the flow of the coppery liquid with my hands, I knew that the lifeblood would filter through my fingers due to watching humans try the same thing.

It is so hard to believe that this is how it ends.

I am so pathetic. How could I fall to a human's blade?

_How do you feel_, this voice calls to me. I have no idea who this thought could belong to nor could I even answer this puzzling question. What are they talking about?

_I take it you don't feel so well?_

My body has long since gone numb.

_I can make you feel better._

It is too late for me.

I believed that I was in a comatose state for quite some time, but as I realize my surroundings change I feel as if Mayfil has sent its will.

_Wrong, little one_.

So the voice prevails.

It seems as if I am on a hill, and although I know that there is more land rolling lazily for miles attached to it, I cannot quite see it. This sight I behold is not something that I can describe, and barely am I able to believe that I can actually see it in front of my bare eyes.

On the exact center of this well-rounded hill is a tree, which is both strong and youthful in appearance. Sunlight that seems to have no source, makes the green leaves glow so very bright, and it makes everything and everyone who gaze upon it feel so pure.

Crouching before me is a child who dons a brown cloak that is the precise color of the bark of that enigmatic tree. Their eyes are like the glowing leaves. Beyond any doubt, this child is most charming.

A finger that belonged to this whelp of the tree had been pointing at my throat without myself even noticing. Immediately my hand traces over the wound that was inflicted upon me only to find that it had scarred over.

How could I deny the feeling of the thin line that should have been sticky with my blood?

"Am I dead," I found the voice to ask.

_No_, his word replied in my mind whilst his lips said it.

How strange.

This brought about his smile, which revealed perfect white teeth. Why am I noting this?

_How do you feel?_

He asked this question three times as far as I can recall. What is the point of it, and what do my feelings matter?

"Well, I believe, but my pride is wounded," I bite back at him. Where am I if I am not in the land of the dead?

He was trying to form words, and although I could see his mouth move, there was no voice in my mind like before. He turns then to face what should have been the sky, but I cannot look up to see what it was for I find myself transfixed on the roots of the tree.

_Play the serpent_, a multitude of voices assaulted me. Pain shoots through me as this illusionary plane breaks down from an opposing force.

It is raining.

I open an eye to find that I am not with that boy, but where I had fallen.

Life is still with me.

Once again, I trace over the wound.

"It _is_ a scar," the rain did not respond to my strange remark.

Although my physical form felt weak, I retained enough mana to teleport back to my fortress home.

The doors, gold and majestic, that marked the entrance to Dictator Melbu's throne are easy enough to push open.

I was never this afraid to confront him before.

It was just he. No other wingly beside myself occupied the space, and although I knew that he probably was expecting me due to my absence, he seems rather startled by my presence here.

"Sir, I am ashamed to report that in-in my arrogance, I left with Lieutenant Arlan on an assault against the rebel humans. It is grim that I believe we have lost him, a fine soldier. I returned just now after I recovered from a wound I thought that would have been severe," I am surprised that my voice rarely shakes, but my legs give out.

I sob on the floor.

Melbu Frahma has always been lenient towards me, many have said. He tends to be kind to his fellow kin, but he hates failure. As a child, I could have said he was my parental figure. Now, he is my . . . leader. I will always follow his orders for he knows what is best for us.

He spoke no words as he landed in front of me, and knelt. Those eyes of his seemed to gloss over as if he were sympathizing my predicament.

Yet as soft as they were then, they seemed to be as cruel as ever. Did he know something that I did not?

Melbu put his hand on my shoulder. His throat cleared. Was he going to scold me?

"Lieutenant Shinobu Tsuda, I recommend that you refrain from military activities for awhile. Use whatever time you have to become stronger and do not perform any actions like the one you took. Due to the endangerment and death that you placed on a comrade, you will hold no power that you had from your rank until you atone, but by my will."

He nodded for me to leave. I did not disobey.

When I made it to my room, all seemed colder. All seemed dull. All seemed worthless.

I lean inside my pod-shaped bed.

"'Play the serpent'," they had said, and I fear that I know what they mean.

Serpents lied and stabbed others' backs.

I shake my head.

"I am not a serpent," my voice screams to that boy. He probably could not hear me.

Maybe he was not real?

Silence graces me as I contemplate what had just occurred.

I was bested a human in my arrogance.

I was the cause of a wingly's death.

I should have died.

Someone or something wants me to betray my race.

My leader knows something, and I believe that it involves me.

Why is it that my world feels so unstable all of a sudden?

I trace my hand over that thin scar.

I knew that I should have died.


	3. Already a Serpent

Bad news... The only reason I am able to type right now is because of QuickEdit. My computer believes that we have no disk space even though we have plenty on both hardrives. When I access Word, it claims that we cannot run it due to that. Hopefully, my family will be able to puchase a cheap but fully-operational computer soon. So just bear with my imperfect grammar and spelling.  
  
**Amanda Swiftgold**, I much appreciate your review. It made me very happy. :D And about the Japanese names... I just really like them. I'm trying to get a mixture of names that I make and like in this story.   
  
All right. Time to let the inspiration flow. :D

* * *

During that time when I was getting over my first serious failure, I began to notice things that I had merely overlooked. The sudden awareness triggered when I went to a place I had never visited before. In a sense, it was like a morgue...  
  
I felt hopeless in this situation for I can not take action in fighting. What else can I do to aid in this struggle? Nothing...Nothing at all.  
  
I decided to take a walk.   
  
Instead of travelling the upper areas, I went to the poorer section of Kanzas. In other words, I went below.  
  
Although this area housed the winglies who were neither noble nor soldiers, it did not portray it. The only difference is that they just don't get to see the sky so often.  
  
I went to activate a warp, but I found that it was not working. This was very strange.  
  
I took in a deep breath as a steadied myself subconsciously. I assume that my eyes look hazy for that is how I feel now. However, I am not surprised. My crimson eyes are merely searching for the magic trail that this warp leaves behind.  
  
I now have a general concept as to where the warp may lead, and with that knowledge, it was not hard to find a tunnel. Even us winglies have simplistic preparations for anti-magical fields.  
  
This feeling inside of me is grim.  
  
I forced my wings to flare out as the end of the downward tunnel passed me by. This place, for whatever reason, held a scent of decaying time. Imaginary cobwebs clung to me, further adding to my disgust. These hyperactive sense are begining ot irk me.  
  
The base of this large area is filled with liquid that I am not positive of its identity.  
  
Suddenly there is a flash or a spark, and that is all I cna recall.  
  
"How are you, Miss Wingly?"  
  
Not this again...  
  
"What is the matter? Aren't you happy to see me again?"  
  
"The last time, boy, I was suffering from a wound that should have claimed my life," I reply with the hint of a snarl.  
  
"But I helped you, didn't I," he responds so innocently. I have come to hate that. "I believe you don't really want ot help us. Do you?"  
  
I lung forward and scream, "Do I look like a traitorous dog to you?"  
  
The boy, unfased ans cross legged, put a slender hand on his chin. "Quite frankly, you look like a wingly who has no understanding of her leader."  
  
"You don't know a thing about _him_, you bastard..."  
  
This ignorant boy stood at this, and I believe that a smile flickered on his immature face.  
  
"Then how about I show you."  
  
In an instant, were are now at the same tree as before except there was more land then the last time.  
  
I followed him as he motioned me over. He pointed into a small pond.  
  
I can not see anything inside its waters, but as I lower myself for a closer inspection, I notice a small room is reflected in the tranquil body.  
  
And that is when he pushes me in with a small giggle.  
  
I feel the air leave my lungs. I can hear the disturbance I made in the water. Those unnatural currents drift past me as I feel myself slowly sink. I wearily open an eye, and I open my other startled eye. The feeling is no more.  
  
I see the image clearly now. The room is hard to identify due to a bright source in the center. The light appears to be hiding images.  
  
_Those are no illusions. They are my brethren. He, the Frahma Fool, locked us in that sphere, and uses our powers for his own gain. The others and I hate to admit that we had underestimated him, but that is how we fell into this predicament.  
  
I am able to talk to you in this dream-like state simply because I am the strongest.  
  
I am Soa.  
  
We humbly request that you aid us.  
  
Defeat Frahma. Take the Sphere of the Moon.  
  
I'll release you know. Your 'mentor' is comming._  
  
I am back in the dark room, but I feel something tied tightly around my hand. It is some type of thread, but that is all that I can make out in the dim lighting that came from sparse cracks.  
  
_That will be your guide among humans_, came Soa's fading voice.  
  
So, he didn't quite leave yet.  
  
I fell to the ankle-high water.  
  
Maybe moments later, I was leaning against a wall. Once again, I begin to notice things that I had not before.  
  
There was another scent in this room besides age.  
  
I know now where I am.  
  
Sheer disgust is all I can think of. I scolded myself for not noticing the scent of wastes sooner.  
  
I realize that it is not odd for that warp to not be working, after all, who would want to go to the waste deposit?  
  
But this place is fitting for me somehow. I belong with the most putrid of garbage, and that is because I _am_ going to play the Gods's pet serpent.  
  
Leader, mentor, brethren or no, Melbu can not escape the destiny that was placed between us now.  
  
But I have to get out of Kanzas.  
  
How simple it is to conjure up a flame and melt a hole. As I left from the waste, the hole seals itself up.  
  
Did Melbu use his new toy to enhance his fortress? Apparently so.  
  
Now... Now I fly downwards.  
  
I spare a glance at the red ribbon on my right hand. I wonder what it will do...  
  
I remember after Soa spoke to me for a second time. It could have been easily stated as the most confusing time of my life. I feel so much different from when I was merely Shinobu Tsuda, lieutentant under Melbu Frahma's vast army. I had always devoted myself to Soa and his gods' plight.  
  
However, I had not known at that time that they changed my fate in order to insure that they would be released.  
  
I have berated myself many times for giving in to his sugar-coated story.  
  
I have berated myself many times for becoming a serpent so soon.  
  
There is one thing that I take solace in. Only Soa survived.  
  
And not even Soa knows what I had seen in the final fight when their prison had shattered.  



End file.
